A dream. Intense and fun. I was at a theatrical production...a new musical that no one had yet seen. The theatre was somewhat like Portland Center Stage at The Armory - but as dreams will be dreams...not exactly.
The show was audience participatory. Typically, I hate that. I mean...I REALLY hate that. But in this dream, the audience and performers became one unit...a blend of energies contributing to a ritual of levity. And I surrendered.
I was seated in the second row...and this worried me, because I always choose an aisle seat. I can't stand feeling trapped. And I wondered how the box office had made such a mistake in putting me in such an uncomfortable spot. But I surrendered.
And then suddenly, it was my turn to participate in the show. An actor came up to me with a large microphone and cued me and a few others to start singing the four notes in a descending minor scale...a classic bass jazz line. We were to sing it as two half notes, then a dotted quarter, with the last note as an eighth note - with two quarter rests completing the second measure...a classic jazz rhythm.
The words to our song were letters. We were to sing: E....I....S...T. Over and over.
I sang loud and everyone around me got into it. The man to my left put his arm around me in camaraderie, and I added an ascending harmony. This made the actor holding the mic giggle. He liked our improvised duet.
The performers were all in bright costumes from various time periods, stretching centuries. And it became obvious that anything could happen at any time and that the show could end immediately or go on infinitely and none of that mattered, for all we wanted to do was keep singing: E....I....S...T.
And then the alarm went off. 5:30am. Time to rise.
As I went about my morning ritual today, I have yet to erase the musical pattern from my head. E....I....S...T has been on a loop. I decided to contemplate the letters. Why those? I mean, it made sense from a singing perspective: two vowels as the long notes and a sharp T as the stinging eighth note. Often a pragmatist, I figured my subconscious simply applied a logical singing pattern. But it bugged me, and I started looking up the letters.
Nope, nope, scroll, scroll, google, google...
And then I came upon something most curious. A Gaelic word: éist. It means: to listen. On its own it can also be used as a command. In spelling it over and over, we were basically singing in Gaelic: Listen, Listen, Listen...over and over.
I also considered an anagram - and I immediately went to the word: ties. There has been much family turmoil over the past year, and I wondered if it might be in reference to the need to "rebuild" or perhaps "cut".
And now, I think maybe my jazzy bass line chant could mean both. In essence: Listen and consider your ties.
And now I have to decide what to do with that.
OR...it could just be...you know...a dream.
The show was audience participatory. Typically, I hate that. I mean...I REALLY hate that. But in this dream, the audience and performers became one unit...a blend of energies contributing to a ritual of levity. And I surrendered.
I was seated in the second row...and this worried me, because I always choose an aisle seat. I can't stand feeling trapped. And I wondered how the box office had made such a mistake in putting me in such an uncomfortable spot. But I surrendered.
And then suddenly, it was my turn to participate in the show. An actor came up to me with a large microphone and cued me and a few others to start singing the four notes in a descending minor scale...a classic bass jazz line. We were to sing it as two half notes, then a dotted quarter, with the last note as an eighth note - with two quarter rests completing the second measure...a classic jazz rhythm.
The words to our song were letters. We were to sing: E....I....S...T. Over and over.
I sang loud and everyone around me got into it. The man to my left put his arm around me in camaraderie, and I added an ascending harmony. This made the actor holding the mic giggle. He liked our improvised duet.
The performers were all in bright costumes from various time periods, stretching centuries. And it became obvious that anything could happen at any time and that the show could end immediately or go on infinitely and none of that mattered, for all we wanted to do was keep singing: E....I....S...T.
And then the alarm went off. 5:30am. Time to rise.
As I went about my morning ritual today, I have yet to erase the musical pattern from my head. E....I....S...T has been on a loop. I decided to contemplate the letters. Why those? I mean, it made sense from a singing perspective: two vowels as the long notes and a sharp T as the stinging eighth note. Often a pragmatist, I figured my subconscious simply applied a logical singing pattern. But it bugged me, and I started looking up the letters.
Nope, nope, scroll, scroll, google, google...
And then I came upon something most curious. A Gaelic word: éist. It means: to listen. On its own it can also be used as a command. In spelling it over and over, we were basically singing in Gaelic: Listen, Listen, Listen...over and over.
I also considered an anagram - and I immediately went to the word: ties. There has been much family turmoil over the past year, and I wondered if it might be in reference to the need to "rebuild" or perhaps "cut".
And now, I think maybe my jazzy bass line chant could mean both. In essence: Listen and consider your ties.
And now I have to decide what to do with that.
OR...it could just be...you know...a dream.
1 comment:
I think your Irish ancestors have something they want you to know. After all, we're just 15 days away from Samhain, the ancient Irish New Year (Halloween to most folk nowadays), when the veil between the seen and the unseen is the thinnest that it is for the entire year.....
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